What Have I Done?
by Jersey13
Summary: Laura Cadman is hurt on an offworld mission, and is inadvertently infected with an ancient and alien illness that's driving her mad. Can Carson, Rodney, and John save her, and save the city before it's too late? Gen, Carson John Rodney Laura whump
1. I'm Losing Myself

TITLE: What Have I Done?

AUTHOR: Jersey13

RATING: T -- for big-time whumping (Sheppy, Beckett, McKay, Laura), Non-Consentual Kissing (between Cadman/Beckett)

DESCRIPTION: Laura Cadman is hurt on an off-world mission and inadvertently infected with an ancient, alien illness that's driving her mad. Can Carson, Rodney, and John save her, as well as the city itself, before it's too late?

A/N: I started writing this during exams. When I'm stressed out, my fics tend to get really, super weird. I was feeling like I was about to lose my mind myself, so I simply couldn't help but inflict my pain on poor Laura, and take my frustration out on Rodney, Sheppy, and Carson. This originally started out as a one-shot, then exponentially grew into this monster here. It's well over 11,000 words long at this point already, but I've already written most of it. Just the last chapter still remains to be written, so I figured I could start posting a chapter or two a day now. When I'm finally finished, I promise I'll get right back to work on "In the Pale Moonlight". :)

I expect this fic to have 7 chapters in total.

Who Gets Whumped in What Chapter:  
1 - Laura  
2 - Carson, Rodney angst  
3 - Rodney  
4 - Laura, John  
5 - Teyla, John, Rodney angst  
6 - everybody angst  
7 - Carson, Laura angst

* * *

"Laura!" a distant, but familiar voice whispered desperately. 

Laura could hear the wind in the trees. She could feel the drops of rain on the exposed portions of her skin, could hear the rumble of thunder far away in the distance, and could hear the muffled voices of the people around her. Their voices were speaking to her, but the words were blissfully incoherent. It was strange. She was oddly aware of all of it, but also unaware at the same time.

She was also vaguely aware of feeling as though she were swaying back and forth. It was almost comforting, and it regressed her mind into a child-like state of contentment. But a hand suddenly shot out of the darkness that was gathering at the periphery of her vision and grasped for her. She limply rolled her head to the side and saw that it was Carson. He was talking to her... No, he was yelling. Laura tried to focus her gaze on his face, which was contorted with fear and anxiety for some reason, and then tried to focus on his lips, but she still found it difficult to comprehend anything but the most muffled of whispers.

A slap suddenly stung her face, jolting her momentarily from that state of disjointed reality. "Carson...?"

"Aye, Lass, I'm here!" he shouted desperately, tugging furiously at her hand. "Don't you dare lose consciousness on me! I'm not goin' tae let ye go! Not this time!"

Before that veil of blackness again encroached on her vision, she saw hands holding her. The hands of the people around her were grasping her shoulders, arms, and legs. She slowly came to the realization of the reason why she felt like she was swaying... It was because she was indeed swaying. She was being carried through a dense forest during a brewing thunderstorm, and as she looked around at the faces of those carrying her, she recognized two other members of her team, as well as the face of that jackass McKay. She smiled warily despite herself.

But Laura still remained blissfully unaware that anything was wrong for some time. The voices once again faded to a dull murmur, and she found herself floating in a misty haze of gray and black. Then, somewhere in the mist, she saw it. A figure was shrouded before her, growling at her and crouching down, ready to attack. She knew what was coming. It was as if she'd felt it... before. It leaped at her.

Laura jolted awake, gasping desperately._ It's so difficult to breathe! What is going on? Why is it so hard to breathe? Why is it so cold? _She sensed that she was no longer swaying. And then Carson was suddenly there once more, cradling her head in his hands and whispering sweet assurances that she could not comprehend through the mist that still lingered in her mind and vision.

Then the sensation changed again. Laura felt herself being raised up, being pulled up to her feet. Her head rolled forward limply, and Carson was once again beside her on the other side, holding her steady, placing her head carefully against his shoulder lest she accidentally injure herself. She felt his arm snake around her waist to support her, and then they were all moving forward as one. The familiar sensation of Stargate travel comforted her, and before she was even capable of realizing that she was back home, in Atlantis, she felt herself being carefully lowered onto a gurney.

A sheet was pulled up over her body for warmth, but it actually did very little good. She was still very cold, but somehow incapable of shivering. The comforting warmth of someone's hand pressed against hers, grasping desperately, begging her to hold on to life before it slipped away. She managed to catch just one more glimpse of Carson Beckett's pure and expressive face before the darkness engulfed her at last. _God, I love that man_.

* * *

When Laura finally found herself near wakefulness, it was no longer the same mist that shrouded her vision and mind, but a medicated haze of pain and oblivion. And as she struggled to lift her heavy eye lids, she found that her eyes were able to focus on the prostrate figure of Carson Beckett before her in the darkness. Her hearing was clear and unmuffled, and she could even detect the faintest sounds of each breath being drawn into his lungs. 

His head was cradled in his arms by the side of her bed where he had obviously fallen asleep. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious, but if the lines of exhaustion crisscrossing the man's perfect face were any indication, it had been quite some time. Tingling and pinpricks of sensation traveled down her left arm where an IV was attached, but her right burned, making her hand tremble with the effort it took to move it. The hand seemed to move with its own volition toward the crown of Carson's head, and it rested there comfortably, mingling with his hair for several moments before he began to stir.

"Laura...?" he whispered sleepily, trying to blink away his fatigue as he raised his head up from his arms. "Laura! You're awake! Oh, Lass, I was worried about ye!"

She gazed lovingly into the blue depths of his eyes, nearly losing herself in them before she managed to eek out a small smile. It succeeded in turning his concerned frown into a broad grin, and he carefully leaned down over her, tentatively reaching a hand to stroke the tender curves of her face and pushing aside a few loose strands of her dark blonde hair. Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he spoke softly and unsteadily.

"It's all my fault," he chided himself cruelly. She did not have the strength yet to do anything except gaze up at him sympathetically. "I should'a gone with ye. Maybe I could've prevented you from being struck by that energy weapon."

Her hand fastened itself around his, again of its own volition, and squeezed firmly. A grim smile graced his lips as she looked deeply into his eyes, and he into hers. She managed to smile warmly at him before pain began to seep through the hazy shroud that held her mind in its grip. Clenching her eyes shut against it, she could feel Carson's hand stroking her cheek affectionately, comforting her. At that moment, something in her mind stirred.

Whatever it was, it felt like it was twisting in her guts, and then coursing through her veins, until it almost felt as if it had stopped behind her eyes. Pressure began to build in her head. She winced against it, willing it to release her from the pain. But it would not let her go.

"Carson..." she heard herself whisper, still clutching his hand tightly. "Would you do something for me?"

The question had been unexpected when it passed from her lips. She thought it strange because there wasn't really anything that she wanted at the moment. Reassuring herself that it was just her recent injuries causing her fatigue, she smiled broadly and tried to open her mouth to belay the request. But nothing would come out.

"O' course, Lass," Carson said compassionately, returning her smile. "What can I do for ye?"

Laura's mouth promptly closed, then formed a single, simple phrase. "Kiss me again."

Carson smiled uncomfortably and gave her a bemused look, and seemed to ponder the request for a moment before he finally gave in and leaned down to gently touch his lips against hers. Now Laura was frightened. Since their relationship together had sort of been amiably discontinued, she had, of course, been tempted a few times to rekindle something between them. She might be headstrong and stubborn, but she would never want to make Carson feel uncomfortable by asking him to kiss her while she was under his care.

Her hand moved once more of its own volition, and then her fingers were suddenly resting against his temple. She watched as his breath caught in his throat and his eyes fluttered closed, trying futilely to fight the wave of disorientation that was invading his mind. Slowly, the lines of his face smoothed, and his jaw slackened. Laura was on the verge of panic inside her own head, but, for the life of her, she could not force her hand to obey her will to release him. She felt herself speak, again with words that did not originate from her own mind.

"I'm fine now, Carson," she soothed softly, slowly. "I just need rest. You should escort me to my quarters so that I may rest more comfortably. Now, take me to the east lab."

When her fingers fell, he was released from his trance. Blinking with confusion, he stammered for a few moments, as if unable to remember what he was about to say. But when he looked back down at her, his grin returned and he spoke confidently. "Well, now that you're feelin' better, why don't I take ye to your quarters to rest up for a while?"

Laura felt herself smile, and was abhorred. He was doing exactly as she had ordered. Why? For what purpose had she just asked him that? There was no answer. She still found herself still unable to control her movement or speech, helpless to prevent him from helping her to her feet, then gently leading her toward the door.


	2. Vengeance and Discovery

A/N: You all get to find out a little bit more here, but there's still plenty you don't know. I'll try to finish this story this weekend and keep posting new chapters for you guys. Thanks for reading and reviewing, and thank goodness exams and finals are over!!! YAY!

* * *

The short walk was uneventful, but terrifying. They were indeed on their way to the east laboratory. With each step, it was as if she knew she was coming closer to realizing something even more horrible than what she had just been inadvertently forced to do to Carson. The door shut behind them, preventing them from being seen by prying eyes. Laura then felt herself turning back toward Carson and was horrified as she watched her hand reach out for him. He had only just realized that they hadn't actually gone to her quarters. He had looked around strangely, but didn't have a chance to say anything before he was again stunned into complacency by her touch.

"I need you to wait for me, Carson," she whispered forcefully, feeling a strange burst of pleasure and satisfaction pass through her as she watched Carson sink to his knees. "Wait here while I finish my work."

She watched him delicately and obediently prop himself up against the wall and sit down. His eyes had become glassy and unfocused. Tearing her own eyes away from him, she turned to her workbench and began gathering circuit boards and C4 from a nearby armory closet. She knew before she had even begun constructing it what it was that this alter-ego within her was making... It was a bomb. Actually, she'd pulled out enough parts and C4 to make two bombs, but whatever intentions this entity controlling her had were still as yet unknown to her.

A second bomb formed itself under her expert manipulation. Adrenaline brought on by a heinous rush of excitement coursed through her veins as she finally finished, and she felt a broad grin forming as she carefully lifted the devices from her workbench, holding them up to the light to double check their construction. Everything was in perfect working order.

Stepping back over to Carson, her fingers once again found the sensitive spot on his temple that would place him into a deep trance. His eyelids drooped heavily as his jaw again went slack, and his head tilted back slightly. She crept closer, moving her face just inches away from his as she spoke.

"You will take this, Carson," she ordered flatly and unemotionally, deftly setting the timer as she placed one of the devices into his hands. "You will take it to the control room, and you will place it somewhere where it will not be seen or found. You will not allow anyone to see you carrying this. When your task is complete, you will go to your quarters and you will wait for me there."

When she stepped back, he obediently rose to his feet and shuffled toward the door, leaving without muttering a sound. She then also fled from the laboratory, moving secretly through rarely-used corridors until she reached her final destination: the power room. In an instant, it became obvious what the entity's intentions were. It was going to destroy the city. A bomb of this size detonating near the ZPM would cause a chain reaction that would rip the entire city apart in a matter of minutes.

But there was no way that the entity would be able to get close enough to plant the bomb unseen. Unless... If Laura had been able to, she would have smacked herself in the head. Of course; that was what Carson's bomb was for. It would provide just enough of a distraction that she'd probably remain unnoticed. The power-control room was just ahead, and so she stopped and waited. The entity checked her watch, and within seconds, a loud explosion echoed through the corridors of the city from far away. Her heart sank.

Anyone that might have been nearby would have been running for their lives at that point. She was desperately pleading with that thing that lurked in her mind, hoping that the entity could read her thoughts as well as it could read her memories. But the recollection of the shadowy figure in the mist was all that managed to be summoned into her mind as a result.

'_You will not deny us our revenge!'_ it shouted furiously at her within her mind when she refused to capitulate to the wordless demands for silence.

Laura fought it as hard as she could, but could not stop her hands from arming the device and placing it under the console that contained the ZPM. She then turned and ran from the room, grinning like a mad woman as her feet carried her swiftly and unwittingly to Carson's quarters.

He was there waiting for her, just as he had been told. A cruel smile played across her lips as she slowly approached. He was sitting on the bed, staring straight ahead of him into nothingness when she came to a stop directly in front of him. But it surprised her when he looked up with a solemn and haunted expression tainting his kind features.

"Why did I just take a bomb to the control room?" he asked innocently. His voice was tinged with fear, and his breathing was shallow, as if he was on the verge of panic.

"You did it because we asked you to," the entity within her answered staunchly.

As she leaned in closer to him, she was abhorred; it was savoring his fear. Her hand tentatively reached for his temple, but he caught it in his own hands before it was too late.

"You're not Laura," he stated sadly, tightening his grip around her hand. "She would'nae have ever made me do that."

Her other hand moved quickly, reaching his head before he could react. He gasped with fear and disorientation, his hands falling away from hers and down to his sides before his breathing finally calmed and his eyelids drooped low. Laura's free hand began to tremble with exhilaration as it also reached out to him, and adrenaline coursed through her veins as her mind raced with fear and revulsion at what she suspected would be happening next.

"It no longer matters who we are," the entity within whispered with a smug smile. It was relishing the fear and hesitation that crept into his demeanor at the grim admission, despite the trance-like state. "In just a few more minutes, we will all be dead, and we will have our revenge."

She inched closer still, close enough that Carson could feel the warmth of her breath on his face. "You have been a great help to us in this endeavor, Carson. We could not have successfully planted the other bomb without you. Atlantis will sink to the bottom of the ocean in ruin, there to remain for all eternity, and all those years of genocide and imprisonment we have suffered will be avenged."

Carson was powerless to stop her from doing whatever it was that she intended to do with him. He shuddered as her lips found his. It was the cold and calculated touch of an inhuman, uncaring, and unloving manipulator, too similar to the way the slender fingers pressed against his temples kept his body carefully under control and subjugated with such practiced ease. His hands moved to embrace her, his flesh betraying him to her will.

Whatever power it was that held them both in its fierce grip had begun to proudly and defiantly strengthen itself within them. Laura's body pressed itself against Carson longingly, desperately assuaging his trembling with a firm embrace. The destruction of the city would be upon them soon enough, and until then, the entity intended to enjoy every moment of pleasure that was left to it in what little time remained.

* * *

Dr. Rodney McKay wiped away the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past hour he'd been working. Colonel Sheppard sat against a rock wall and dozed in a corner, and he silently marveled at how the man never seemed to sweat. The air was thick and humid, not just uncomfortably warm, but made it especially difficult to breathe since the rain had stopped falling outside. The thunderstorm that had darkened the sky and drenched him earlier had dissipated and passed by quickly, and had left him and those who remained on the planet with him to suffer the resultant humidity without the protection of Lt. Cadman. 

She'd been with him, standing at his side in that very spot in fact, when she'd been struck by a surge of energy that had arced from a concealed and dirt-covered device embedded in the wall of the cave. The memory of carrying her through the forest back to the Stargate was still vivid in his mind, vivid and disturbing enough that it occasionally distracted him from the task at hand. He shook his head to clear his mind, and attempted to refocus himself on the device that now lay in pieces on the ground in front of him.

It was all he could do not to kick one of the useless pieces of scrap with frustration. So far, he had only managed to find a smattering of information about it, and none of it had been useful. The scanner that he'd used to examine the device didn't have enough power to reactivate it, and without power, he could not access any data that might have been stored in its memory. The technology was familiar, probably of Ancient origin, and the only one other clue that had thus far presented itself was a single, predominant symbol that had been clearly labeled on several sections of the device.

The symbol resembled a circle with a thin line bisecting it through the center, but Rodney had never seen it used before anywhere in Atlantis. When he had dialed Atlantis back to report his progress to Dr. Weir, she had staunchly refused his request to bring the device back to Atlantis with him for further study.

"Rodney, I cannot allow you tobring this thing back to Atlantis," she had insisted firmly over his radio. "The discharge may have been accidental, but it nearly killed Lt. Cadman. I'm concerned that this weapon could pose a threat to the safety of the city."

"I explained this before, Elizabeth," Rodney stated with annoyance. "It's not a weapon. It's some kind of capsule, and my scanner doesn't have enough power to reactivate it. The separate modules of the capsule are individually shielded, and until I figure out how to turn the device back on, there's no way I can tell what it's supposed to do."

"It doesn't have some kind of label or manual written on it that explains something about its operation?" she asked idly. "Most of the strange, alien devices we've encountered thus far seem to usually have something like that."

Rodney sighed, swallowing back his frustration. "There is all of one, single symbol labeled on several of the capsule's modules, but I have absolutely no idea what it means."

"You said you thought the device was of Ancient design, right?" she asked hopefully. "What does the symbol look like? I'll try to look it up in the Ancient database."

He would have preferred to look it up himself, but instead of arguing further, he rolled his eyes and reluctantly capitulated. "It looks like a red circle with a black line through it."

Nearly a full minute passed before her quiet response was finally broadcasted through the comm-link. "Oh, no…"

Rodney's eyes widened anxiously. "What? What is it? What does it mean?"

"Rodney, that symbol is the Ancient equivalent of a bio-hazard warning label," she said quickly with a faint hint of concern in her voice. "I'm sending Beckett and a medical team in full bio-hazard gear to check you over. Do you think there's a risk that Lt. Cadman was affected by whatever bio-hazard that device contains?"

Rodney shook his head, but of course, she couldn't see it. "There's no way to tell."

"Well, keep working, Rodney. The medical team is on their way out as we speak."

"Right," he confirmed just before Dr. Weir disconnected the communications link.


	3. A Bomb in Gilead

A/N: Glad you guys are enjoying this so far! I've got a big concert today, the dress rehearsal of which I'm already late for. :) But, I thought I'd take a couple of minutes to post this for you guys anyway. I'll work on chapter 7 today if I have time. Anyway, I'm afraid you guys won't be seeing Carson too much more over the next few chapters, but poor whumped Sheppy and poor whumped Rodney are gonna keep you company in the mean time. I just couldn't resist being mean to poor Carson. You'll find out what's happened to him soon enough. :)

* * *

Rodney kicked at one of John's boots to rouse him. "Time to wake up, Colonel."

"Wha… What?" John's muttered response was bewildered. "Did you figure out what happened already?"

"No!" Rodney sighed angrily, and began to pace nervously in a tight circle. "As it turns out, this thing could end up killing us after all!"

John stood quickly, his eyebrows knitting together with confusion. He didn't like it when Rodney got this nervous; it usually meant big trouble. "What? Why? How?"

"The symbols all over this thing are _bio-hazard_ warnings." Rodney's voice cracked with tension and fear.

"Well, what's in the damned thing that's so dangerous?" John implored angrily.

"I don't know!" Rodney's face was turning red with agitation as he paced the small confines of the cave's mouth, and the sweat on his forehead that had not been wiped away began to drip over his eyebrows, stinging his eyes. "I won't be able to figure that out until I can reactivate it!"

John wanted to smack him upside his head. "Then reactivate it already!"

Rodney was nearly struck speechless with frustration, but not quite. "I _can't_ reactivate it! There isn't enough power!"

Teyla and Ronon had been keeping watch outside and chose that moment to find out what the two were arguing about. Teyla was the first to speak. "What has happened?"

"Those symbols are bio-hazard warnings," Rodney explained, pointing a finger accusingly at the parts strewn across the ground. "If Elizabeth had just let me take this thing to my lab, I would've found that out before I took it apart and put all our lives in danger."

"Rodney…" A curiously alarmed expression began to creep onto John's face. "There was some kind of seal containing this bio-hazard, right? Is it possible that it was broken before now, like when Cadman accidentally touched it?"

Rodney stopped mid-pace, a horrified expression replacing his concern. "It's entirely possible."

He immediately took off at a sprint for the Stargate. It wasn't a long run; it had only seemed like long when they'd had to carry Cadman. Stressful moments always seemed to be long and drawn out, and the moment in time just before they Stargate had opened for them had seemed to last forever. But this time, the moment flew by in a heartbeat, and his perception finally returned to normal as he came to a stop before a medical team dressed in red hazard suits toting medical kits and a palette of medical supplies. He managed to squeak a few words while struggling to catch his breath.

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard," he stated breathlessly as he touched his radio. "Are you reading me?"

"Yes, John," Dr. Weir's curt reply came. "The medical team should have just arrived."

"Elizabeth, listen to me carefully," he demanded emphatically. "I want you to find Cadman and put her and anyone she's been in contact with under quarantine immediately, just in case. Where's Beckett?"

"We're still trying to find them both," she explained furtively. "Dr. McKay said he isn't sure that Cadman was exposed to this bio-hazard, and Dr. Beckett hasn't been responding to his radio, so we sent Dr. Biro instead. Has there been any progress on the device?"

John sighed heavily, allowing one of the members of the medical team to examine him while he used the radio. "Rodney is still looking into it, but is still having trouble accessing it. I'm more worried about Cadman and Beckett at the moment, though."

"Don't worry, we'll find them," Elizabeth assured him before closing the channel.

Rodney managed to catch up at roughly the same moment, and he heaved in great draughts of the thick, humid air. He smiled brightly between gasps. "I've got an idea!"

John watched intently as Rodney grabbed a defibrillation kit from one of the medics; the man's complaint was lost in the ensuing confusion. He followed curiously as Rodney then hefted the kit under his arm and began to run back toward the cave, and eventually figured that he must have been planning to use the batteries in the machine to power up the device.

His suspicion was confirmed as Rodney dug through his bag for wires to connect the batteries to the device. The medics, all dressed in their hazmat suits, were still a few minutes behind in their chase, and could offer no complaints as Rodney tacked the last wire in place. The exposed core of the device began to glow faintly, and he eagerly pulled out his scanner to examine it.

"Hmm," Rodney mumbled curiously, shifting his feet underneath him and tapping a few times on the scanner's display. "It's definitely a time capsule. There are a few records stored in here about some sort of plague that they were trying to wipe out, but the sample containers look like they're clean."

John, the rest of his teammates, and the medics all stared at him expectantly. "Look like…?"

Rodney's face twisted into a grimace of confusion. "Well, there are a few traces of what _might_ have been at one point some ten-thousand year-old microbial samples, but I'm not detecting any signs that the remains of the samples are still living."

"So does that mean we're safe?" Ronon asked cautiously.

"Yes, it means we're safe," Rodney confirmed agitatedly.

Dr. Biro was unimpressed by the statement, however, and did not breathe a sigh of relief with the other medics as they began to remove their protective gear. "No one is to take their gloves off yet. I still intend to run a full spectrum of tests on everyone present, just in case."

"You can do those tests back in Atlantis," John stated firmly, assuming his normal air of command. "I want to get the hell out of here; this place creeps me out. Let's contact Elizabeth and tell her the good news. Rodney, she shouldn't have a problem with the device now that we can be sure it's dead, but if you still want to take it back to Atlantis, it's your responsibility now."

Rodney grunted his approval and began to gather his things, stuffing the various parts of the device haphazardly into his pack. It figured that he'd be forced to carry all this junk back to the Stargate himself.

* * *

Elizabeth was staring at him with that expectant look again. "What?" he demanded irately, halting his tapping on the console controls in front of him. 

"Anything yet?" she asked uncomfortably, but optimistically. She hadn't meant to disturb him, but she had little else to do except peer over his shoulder as he worked. The search for Carson Beckett and Laura Cadman hadn't gone well, and Rodney's progress in sifting through all the records left behind by the Ancients in the device was going slowly.

"No, not yet," he retorted snidely. "There's far too much information here to just skim through it without knowing exactly what we're looking for."

Dr. Weir nodded solemnly, and then left him alone to return to her paperwork in her office. He sighed heavily, and then returned his attention to the files as topics, areas of study, and references to samples flew by on his screen. The door leading to the lift at the edge of the tower opened behind him, and, for some reason, his attention was drawn to see who it was that had just arrived.

"Carson!" he exclaimed with surprise when he recognized the person's face, but his outburst went unnoticed. "People have been looking for you, you know."

Carson continued to ignore him, silently walking past him to sit at the console where the life-signs detectors were stationed. Rodney watched idly, and was thoroughly perplexed and confused.

"Hey, Carson, are you alright?" He was again ignored, and so he tried to be a little more persistent, and stood directly at Carson's side. "Can I help you find something?"

He did pause when Rodney peered over his shoulder. Without even looking up at him, he spoke flatly with hardly a hint of emotion. "No, Rodney. I'll be fine."

Rodney was sure that he must've blown a gasket in his head somewhere, but did not think much of it, and didn't pester him further. With a small, almost indiscernible shrug and a shake of his head, he went back to his computer console and returned to his research. He did not notice when Carson left a few minutes later.

He was not prepared when, some time later, the unexpected blast erupted from directly behind him, and it flung him across two other consoles like dog would toss a rag doll from its mouth. When the smoke and debris began to clear from the air, he took a small, hesitant breath, and instantly regretted it. He felt pain everywhere, but especially in his ribs. He touched his ribs at the focal point of his pain, and his palm came away covered in blood. _Oh, God! I'm going to die!_

"McKay!" a familiar voice shouted from the direction of the lift. "Rodney, where are you? Are you alright?"

"Over here," he gasped. Shock and panic were beginning to set in; he could feel wet warmth soaking into his t-shirt and spreading across his abdomen near where he'd just felt the blood, and it frightened him.

He leaned back, trying to relax while attempting to keep from pressing his back into any shrapnel that might have been strewn about underneath him. Colonel Sheppard came into view, and Rodney looked up at him expectantly. He frowned. "I'm probably dying, and all you can do is just stand there and stare at me? Where's Carson? It figures that he'd leave just before he's needed."

John leaned down to examine the wound, carefully avoiding a few leftover smoking pieces of charred metal littering the floor. He took off his jacket and pressed it firmly against Rodney's wound to stop the bleeding. "He was here? Why didn't you say anything? Elizabeth has had teams out looking for him all afternoon since he and Cadman disappeared from the infirmary."

"Well, he was at the LSD console over there for some reason," Rodney croaked, holding out a finger toward the console that Carson had been sitting at. "Strangely enough, he gave me the impression that he didn't want to be bothered."

John whispered slowly, carefully. "That's the direction in which the bomb originated. How long ago was he here?"

Rodney's breathing came in short gasps. "It was just… just a few minutes ago. You can't possibly think… that he would've…?"

"We don't know anything for sure, Rodney." John scratched his chin, trying to think of a logical explanation for everything that had happened, and then looked down again at Rodney's wound. "I think the bleeding has stopped. I'll get a medical team for you if I have to carry them up here myself, but I want to know who made that bomb right now. Make that your first priority."

"Right," Rodney sighed heavily, watching John leave before trying to push himself up. He found it none too easy. The pain in his ribs throbbed mercilessly when he breathed deeply, making it difficult to sit upright for too long. _No rest for the weary, I guess._


	4. Deadly Encounters

A/N: Well, thanks to HyperCaz, got some new music to inspire me to finish chapter 7! It's coming along, but not quite finished yet. We'll see how long it takes. :)

* * *

"Ow!" Rodney yelped as Dr. Biro used a pair of forceps to yank at a piece of shrapnel that was embedded in the flesh between his ribs. "That hurts, damn it!"

She shook her head begrudgingly and shifted the forceps to her other hand. "I'm sorry, Dr. McKay, but it must come out, or else your wound will become infected."

"I'm trying to work here!" he whined miserably, trying to hold his tablet to the side so he could continue working while she tended to him. With one final yank, as well as one more round of grunting and grimacing on his part, it was done, and she hurriedly staunched the renewed flow of blood with antiseptic and a gauze bandage.

He glared at her one more time when she rose to her feet to move on to the next patient, and then returned to his search for clues. Not much had been forthcoming as yet, not since a search for any remaining parts of the bomb had turned up nothing so far. He sighed and shifted his weight, trying to relieve some of the discomfort that was building from his awkward position that kept pressure off his ribs.

His radio squawked. "McKay, this is Sheppard. Got anything yet?"

He sighed heavily and touched his radio to reply. "No, not since you last called me about five minutes ago. And if you're continually pestering me like that, how am I to be expected to get any work done?"

"Dr. McKay?" a tech behind him asked.

"_What_?" Rodney demanded irately, nearly dropping his tablet.

The tech jumped, and then gulped nervously before proffering Rodney an object that was hidden between grimy fingers. "I think I found something."

Rodney scowled, outstretching his hand to receive whatever it was. It was a bomb fragment, unsurprisingly. He turned it over in his fingers, examining it carefully. It seemed like just another piece of ruined slag… until he turned it over again, and caught a glimpse of a green circuit board pattern. There were still numbers on it.

John was curious, and Rodney had nearly forgotten that he'd left the channel open. "Rodney? What is it? What have you found?"

Blinking with disbelief, he responded carefully and softly. "Colonel, we may have something here after all. A bomb fragment just turned up, and it looks like it was made here in Atlantis, with parts from one of our own labs. That and the fact that the amount of heat the incendiary was estimated to have generated is consistent with C4."

"Damn," John swore softly, only just barely audibly over the radio. "Rodney, who here would have the knowledge, the experience, and the access to build a bomb like that?"

"I suppose Zelenka and I should be on the list of suspects, too," he admitted thoughtfully, and his voice sounded significantly lower and more confident as he spoke his next thought. "But there's only one other person whose whereabouts have been unknown that might have had the knowledge, time, and access to build something like this."

"Cadman," the response came over the radio. Rodney could practically see John's angry expression in his head. "Rodney, what the hell could've happened to her? And why would Beckett help her, unless it's affected him now too? You said the device was dead."

"What do I look like, a mind-reader?" Rodney said defensively. "As far as I could tell, it _was _dead! How the hell was I supposed to know that he was planting a bomb?"

"I'm not blaming you, Rodney," John said angrily, then changed the subject. "Are the Life-Signs Detectors still working? Can we figure out a way to track them?"

"No," he confirmed, the tension making his voice crack. "The bomb was placed directly under the control console for the life-signs sensors. There's no way I'll be able to fix it in less than a week."

"There has to be a way!" John sputtered angrily. "There has to be a reason for all of this. Is there any clue in that device at all as to what that device has done to her? Why are they doing this?"

"If there is, I don't know what it could be." He sat heavily against the wall, wracking his brain to organize and process all the information he'd read. "All the records stored in the device are about those microbial samples that were contained inside."

John was getting desperate. "Could Cadman have been infected by it after all, and then spread it to Beckett in the infirmary before they disappeared?"

"It's possible," Rodney admitted. "But if that's true, I don't see how we all wouldn't have become infected by now."

"Were there records in the device on how to treat or kill it?" John asked hopefully.

Rodney perked up excitedly. "Yes, there were!"

"Get on it, Rodney!" John ordered. "You and Dr. Biro come up with something as fast as you can. I'll keep looking for Cadman and Beckett."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it," Rodney mumbled eagerly, pulling the tablet back onto his lap before signing off the radio. "Biro, get over here! We've got work to do."

* * *

Laura calmly and quietly buttoned up her shirt first, followed by the vest that she'd stolen from Carson's closet, re-adjusting each strap it to fit her as best she could as she casually slipped it over her shoulders. It was a well-practiced motion that she did every morning, and her fingers found the task just as simple as it had ever seemed, despite what she had just watched those same fingers inflict upon poor Carson a short time ago. Picking up Carson's issued Beretta pistol as well, her hand wavered for the slightest of moments before the weapon was gingerly slipped into the holster at her side. She began to slowly and determinedly walk away, destination unknown. 

Any moment now, the entity's plan to destroy the city would be fulfilled. It pressed down on her mind insistently. It impressed upon her its rage and glee that the revenge it sought was so close to fruition, which succeeded in filling her with hatred toward it. But strangely, she found that she also pitied it. Feeling and experiencing the hurt and anguish that had been inflicted upon this creature, no matter how evil and callous it seemed to be acting at the moment, had sparked an inkling of sympathy for its suffering in her.

_It's no excuse for what you're doing to us,_ she snarled at it angrily within the confines of her mind when its attention seemed to have been curiously sidetracked by her mixed emotions toward it. It was confused by her reaction to its emotions, but it did not lessen its grip of control over her body as it continued to force her onward. The effort it had been expending to maintain that level of total and complete control over her seemed to be weakening its reserves, and thus the barriers that had firmly kept their minds separated were slowly falling apart.

Memories and images flashed wantonly in her mind, unbidden and unwanted. Some of the memories were horrific and stolidly ignored by the entity, but several sparked more curious emotions in her captor. She could see entire worlds, knew the endless expanses of trees, and she saw the faces of people; smiling and happy people. They would have bowed down at her feet, worshipped her, and served her. It was then that she realized that this horrible, monstrous thing inside her had really _cared_ for these people that she was seeing.

More images flooded her mind; burning homes, death, suffering, and pain. Anger flared. Images appeared of Aurora-class ships, dozens of them hanging in the sky, ready to irradiate the entire world, just to rid it of _her_. And then slowly, agonizingly slowly, a blanket of redness flooded the atmosphere of one world. Then another. And another. It continued until every world that was once in her domain was empty and barren of her life-giving influence.

Tears welled in her eyes as she rounded the last corner of the corridor, and when she spied Colonel Sheppard, as well as the rest of her own team, seemingly waiting for her, she instantly knew that the next few moments would be her last. They were too close. The pistol was slowly drawn from the holster, and then raised to bear at them. Her finger flicked off the safety, and her aim was sighted along its barrel. It all happened in what felt like slow-motion.

Colonel Sheppard whirled around just in time to see the barrel of the pistol being pointed at his chest just before it was fired. The shot echoed eerily through his ears before his knees suddenly buckled, slipping out from under him. He fell heavily to the floor. Intense pressure began to build in his chest. He knew then that he'd been shot, and that it was bad.

His comrades in arms immediately opened fire on the aggressor with their P90s. They were too close to the target for any of their shots to miss.

Laura fell hard. She had felt the impacts on her chest as if someone was simply tapping on her shoulder, but thankfully felt little pain. She embraced the stillness that followed.

'_It's alright…'_ the entity soothed her softly as darkness encroached into her vision. _'It will all be over soon. We will ensure that you feel no pain before the end claims us all.'_

* * *

John struggled to breathe, at least long enough for him to touch his radio and warn somebody. He had to make sure that somebody did something to save the city, even if it cost him his life to do it. 

"McKay," he whispered weakly, and was interrupted by a fit of coughing. Blood dripped down his chin. "Rodney… Where are you?

The response took a moment to come, but hearing Rodney's voice did make him feel a bit better. "I'm coming! We've almost got it working!"

"Rodney…" he began, coughing up more blood in another fit. His lungs felt like they were being tickled. "The ZPM… The scanner… Get to… the ZPM... now."

"What?" Rodney sounded optimistic, but he could tell something was wrong. "What was that about the ZPM? What's wrong?"

"The scanner, Rodney," John forced, instigating yet another bout of coughing. He was starting to feel light-headed. "Another bomb… near the ZPM."

"You've _got_ to be kidding me!" came the response. John could just barely picture Rodney about to have a heart attack. "Another one?!"

But John no longer had the ability to respond any more. He slumped back in a daze, trying futilely to stay conscious against the dizziness and blood loss. He felt the hands of his teammates pulling his vest off and trying to staunch the flow of blood, but was only vaguely aware of it any more. The last thing he heard before the darkness took him was the uncertainty in Rodney's voice. _"Sheppard? Hey, are you still there? Whatever; I'm on my way to the power room now, so don't worry. I'll find it… I hope."_


	5. Small Sacrifices

A/N: Well, this weekend I've had hardly a moment's rest. Anyway, hope you guys are enjoying the angst! Personally, I think the cheeky li'l buggers that I created in this story a are much more interesting foe than the Asurans any day. The SGA people should hire me to write for them. :)

* * *

Rodney wiped his sleeve across his forehead to remove some of the sweat building there once more before it dripped into his eyes. Finding the bomb had been easy; all he'd had to do was look around a little, and there he'd found it underneath the control console. But the way it had been wired and the detonator connected made it dangerous to touch, so he didn't dare move it from where it had been placed. He was trying to visualize the circuit diagrams in his head, hoping that he could figure out which wire to cut before the timer reached zero… and he had only just over three minutes in which to do it.

It shouldn't have been this hard. The detonator had been hastily constructed out of circuits that had been taken from his laboratory, but sections of it were obscured with what looked like some kind of insulation, and he could not be entirely sure exactly which wires were connected to which input. It was possible that she could have purposefully obfuscated it so that it would explode if he attempted to tamper with it. So got down on his knees and pulled out his scanner, trying to identify which of the wires carried an electrical current, and attempted to determine which wires he could safely cut.

Time passed quickly, far too quickly for his comfort. _Must work faster…_ A hand suddenly touched his shoulder, and he yelped with the shock of surprise. Whirling around, he saw the worried face of Teyla, and tried to force himself to remain calm and less panicked.

"May I assist you?" she asked carefully, lowering herself down to her knees beside him.

"There's no time…" Rodney mumbled desperately, trying to regain his composure, but he had already begun to tremble with uncertainty. "I can't seem to figure out which wire is the arming wire. I don't… I don't know if I can stop it."

She placed a hand on his shoulder again, trying to reassure him of her confidence. "Relax, Rodney. Concentrate. I am sure that you will manage."

Taking a deep breath, he picked up a rusty set of wire-cutters. They shook slightly in his hand as he reached out for the bomb, and no amount of confidence-building was going to make it stop shaking. Slowly, determinedly, he pressed the handles of the cutters closed, snipping a wire. He flinched as he heard the click. They waited a moment before he hesitantly opened his eyes and looked down.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep._ The device was arming! Rodney was frantic. The trembling was suddenly much worse, and he struggled not to drop the wire-cutters. Snip. Snip.

The beeping wouldn't stop. Rodney panicked. His breath came in desperate gasps.

Snip. Snip. Snip. It just wasn't doing anything! Snip. Snip. Nothing! Rodney whimpered pathetically as he kept cutting wires, hardly bothering to make sure they didn't contain a dangerous charge any more, and steadily became assured of their impending doom.

"McKay, this is Caldwell," a voice crackled to life over his radio suddenly. He stopped instantly. "We just arrived in orbit and have been apprised of the emergency. Can we render assistance?"

"Colonel Caldwell, this is McKay" he acknowledged with relief, allowing himself a small smile. "There's a bomb situated on the console directly in front of me, and if it goes off, it'll cause a cascade reaction that will destroy half this city and send the other half sinking to the bottom of the ocean."

"Is it safe to beam it out into space?" Caldwell said, and then Rodney heard a technician reporting in the background, but could not make out what was said.

"That should work," he answered, hoping his concern was made apparent in his voice.

"We can't seem to get a lock on the device," Caldwell said after a terse moment. "There's some kind of interference blocking the sensors."

"Wonderful," Rodney sighed with frustration. Now he knew what that extra shielding around parts of the device was for. "I wasn't able to disarm it, Colonel! If you can't find a way to beam that thing out of here in less than one minute, we are all going to die!"

"We're doing the best we can, Doctor!" he retorted angrily. "Is there anything you can use to mark it so that the sensors will be able to pick it up?"

Rodney whirled around and haphazardly yanked out drawers and opened cabinets, rooting through them for something, anything that might do the trick. But there was nothing. Time was slowly ticking away, and Rodney was again trembling, desperately fumbling for an answer. Teyla watched him sympathetically, but then an idea suddenly dawned on her. She instantly knew what she had to do.

"Colonel Caldwell, there is no other choice," she said unwaveringly, and then carefully scooped the device up into her hands, trying not to jar it. "I will do what must be done."

It was that moment that Ronon decided to burst into the room. He looked around in confusion, trying to figure out what was going on, when Rodney saw what Teyla was doing.

"Teyla, no!" Rodney shouted futilely, moving to stop her. Both he and Ronon act as one, moving to intercept her before she could touch her radio again. But it was too late.

"Colonel Caldwell, beam me out into space with the device!" she demanded solemnly. "Less than twenty seconds remain before it detonates! Do it quickly!"

Several seconds passed before Caldwell's order to comply with her demand was finally carried out. She disappeared in a shimmer of light just as they were about to reach her.

The coldness, blackness, and emptiness of space suffocated her. It was all she could do to fling the device away from her as her lungs leaked what was left of her last breath. The seconds ticked past. Her eyes, nose, and throat felt like they were being stabbed with icy needles. Her guts clenched and twisted. Then the gentle caress of the transporter had surrounded her once more.

Falling hard to the floor of the bridge of the _Daedalus_, she felt a shock wave rock the ship softly, then felt no more as unconsciousness claimed her.

* * *

John woke slowly to the sensation of his blood pressure being measured. Dr. Biro was frowning above him, and Rodney McKay was asleep in a chair on the other side of the room. He was restless in his sleep, occasionally flinching as a little glob of drool dripped down his chin onto his jacket. Blinking slowly, John focused his eyes on Dr. Biro as he tried to remember what had happened, and it drew her attention. 

"Colonel Sheppard?" she whispered softly, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Can you hear me, Colonel?"

John swallowed and licked his dry lips before he spoke weakly, looking over at the sleeping figure in the chair. "Yeah… Did Rodney… find the bomb?"

"Yes, he did," she replied assuredly, glad to see that he was allowing himself to relax. She decided not to tell him too much, rather than risk him becoming concerned again. "Teyla was injured after it was found, but the device was safely beamed out into space, and she's going to be fine."

"What happened?" John asked persistently, trying to sit up, but Dr. Biro pushed him back.

"You will _not_ move until I tell you to," she insisted firmly, giving him a cold glare. "If you're not careful, you'll re-open your wound. It took me over an hour to fix you up in the OR."

John sat back and was about to give in to Dr. Biro's demands and his fatigue when everything else that happened suddenly came back to him. "What about Cadman?"

Dr. Biro sighed and looked down away from him. She had obviously been hoping that he wouldn't ask. "It doesn't look good."

"Doc," he chided irritably, unhappy that she was trying to treat him like a child. "Don't play these games with me. I'm not going to be satisfied until you tell me the truth, all of it. What doesn't look good?"

She stared at him gravely for a long moment before finally answering, and then cocked her head to the side toward an isolated bed in the corner. "She's alive, barely."

John's gaze followed the direction of the motion. He strained his neck to see her, and when he did, he almost regretted it. She was deathly pale, and every part of her exposed flesh was covered with the faint lines of what appeared to be something growing, tracing the contours of her body along the veins and capillaries under her skin. Her strawberry-blonde hair was damp and dark with sweat; she seemed almost alien to his eyes. It was then that the implications of what had been happening over the last few hours sank in completely.

"What the hell has that thing done to her?" he demanded angrily, trying again to sit up, and yet again being restrained by Dr. Biro's firm, but gentle hand.

She spoke with as much restraint in her voice as she had shown him with her hands. "I'm not sure, but she was shot more than a dozen times and should be dead."

"Haven't you and Rodney found a way to kill it yet?" he asked insistently, giving her a disappointed look.

She looked frustrated enough to slap him, but instead held up a simple device that was precariously balanced in Rodney's lap for him to see; it had been set in a chrome-finished housing, and had a single button. "We can't do that yet, Colonel. Whatever it's done, it seems to be keeping her alive for the time being. If we kill it now, she'll die."

John settled down. She was only doing her job, of course. He didn't want Laura to die, either, but it frustrated him to know that he'd have to sit by and watch while she suffered. "What about Carson?"

Dr. Biro shook her head somberly. "There doesn't seem to be any sign of him anywhere. I even went out to help looking for him myself. The other search parties are still out looking for him, but it's a big city. If she didn't want him to be found, I don't think it would be all that difficult to hide him. I shudder to think what could be happening to him as we speak, especially if he's been infected by this thing, too."

Nodding slowly, John sympathized as well.


	6. Story of Ages

A/N: Well, we're in the home stretch. I'm sorry if you guys hate me now... I just couldn't help but humiliate Carson a little bit. :D --ducks-- Chapter 7 coming soon, then back to work on In the Pale Moonlight.

* * *

When Laura's eyes managed to finally flutter open, she could feel its anger and rage. Its plan had backfired, and it was now in danger of being utterly destroyed without ever having the revenge it had fought for. The bomb had not gone off. The city was not sunk to the bottom of the ocean. The people within the city that it desperately sought to punish were not dead. And it seethed with hatred, forcing her arms to struggle futilely against the restraints. 

Not even Dr. Biro had been brave enough to do much more than simply double check the restraints that bound her and attempt to sedate her. But unfortunately, it had no effect. And now Colonel Sheppard, whom she did remember nearly killing a short while ago, sat across from her in the relative safety and comfort of his own bed, watching dispassionately as her body struggled for freedom and her face contorted with rage. She had even managed to wake the soundly-sleeping Dr. McKay, and if she hadn't been so frightened, she might even have taken some small measure of satisfaction at seeing him struck so utterly speechless.

A few minutes later, they began to talk in hushed voices with Dr. Biro, but not so quietly that she could not hear them. It nearly drove the entity inside her mind insane with rage.

"Doc, do you think it's safe to kill it now?" Sheppard questioned the doctor bluntly. "She seems to be getting her strength back, and I'm not so sure I'll feel safe in the infirmary much longer with her here."

"I'm not sure," Dr. Biro said with uncertainty, turning to look at her. "But the infection does appear to be getting worse. I think she may be strong enough now."

'_I hate you!'_ it screamed at them inside her head. _'I'll kill you all!'_

She knew that they couldn't hear it, but despite the creature screaming in her mind, she was grateful for McKay's inventive genius. As much as she despised him, he always seemed to come through for his friends, and she was glad that he still thought of her as one of them. But the shadow began to press on her again, desperately seeking an answer. Its mind reached out for her again, and she found once more that it was not an altogether unpleasant experience; not until the pain and hurt of its desperation filled her mind. It looked to her experience and thoughts for guidance, for some idea or inkling of a plan.

She could not resist the invasion, but took comfort in the fact that its effort was in vain, for she had no guidance to give. It instead found her faith, her trust in her friends, and felt her hopeful confidence that they would soon free her. She was soothed by it, and for some reason unknown to her, she felt the entity slowly let go. It was coming to the realization that it was going to die, and it slowly released the pressure it had placed on her, slipping into despair as it became resigned to its fate.

It dug deeply into its memory, searching for something in which it might find solace and comfort in its last moments of life. But McKay had not pressed the button yet. Her head turned to the side to see, and she encountered their cautious gazes watching her. Her physical outbursts had stopped several moments ago, and they were staring at her curiously now, wondering if something was happening to her.

"I hate you," she heard herself whisper to them. She was relatively impassive, but her jaw clenched and her lips trembled, as if she were about to cry.

Sheppard's gaze hardened, and if he'd been holding the device, the entity would have been assuredly dead at that very moment. But McKay's expression was more curious.

"Why?" Rodney asked plaintively, swallowing hard and clutching the device close to his body.

The entity had not expected that question. Laura felt its confusion and aggravation. It shouted at them bitterly in her mind with contempt and indignation. _'You do not understand? You truly do not know what you have done to deserve destruction?'_

_No, they don't,_ Laura replied sadly.

She felt hot tears slide down her face. Rage and grief consumed the entity once more, but her body was outwardly calm. With one last burst of strength possessing her, she broke the restraints holding her left arm down at her side and grabbed at McKay's jacket, pulling him closer. He dropped the device, struggling desperately against her grip.

Her fingers found his temple.

Sheppard wrenched himself out of bed, and both he and Dr. Biro scrambled for the fallen device. He pressed the button, and then the red glow of a radiating energy wave filled the room. Rodney fell from Laura's grip, landing unconscious on the floor, and Laura fell deathly still and silent.

Dr. Biro pulled John up to his feet and helped him back to bed, then called over a few orderlies to help her examine Rodney after placing him in a bed of his own. Rubbing absently at the wound on his chest, John allowed his eyes to drift closed and prayed that Rodney hadn't gotten the design of the device wrong. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

* * *

When Rodney next opened his eyes, he found himself in a dense forest on a sunny day, much like the one on the planet they had just visited, and was standing in the center of a circle of primitive people. There was someone lying prostrate at his feet, a man. Dried blood was caked in the man's hair and clothing. 

Lowering to his knees next to the figure lying on the ground felt like the natural thing to do, so he did. He then placed his hands on the motionless figure. Without a word, Rodney's eyes closed. He concentrated. Time lost all meaning as the world shifted and changed around him, and for a moment, he was afraid that he might pass out. But his mind soon calmed, and the world around him returned to its façade of normalcy.

The man at his feet drew a great draught of air into his lungs, coughing and wheezing. Rodney watched disconnectedly as the man pushed himself to his hands and knees, and then sat up straight. A woman ran to his side; she was crying, and she clutched at him lovingly.

Rodney stood, allowing himself a small smile. The woman then also rose to her feet.

"Thank you," she cried, pressing her tearful face into Rodney's chest.

He watched idly as every single man and woman gathered around him lowered themselves onto the grassy, leaf-covered ground. They respectfully lied prostrate before him in a deep crouch, and Rodney felt awed by the gesture. He did not desire their worship, but was glad that he had the ability to help them. If it was their choice to thank him in this manner, who was he to stop them?

His eyes slowly closed as in a long blink, and when they opened again, the people were all gone. Nothing remained around him except the rays of sunshine that broke through the canopy of trees as the branches swayed in the breeze. Confused, he looked around. And then, with his next breath, he smelled smoke.

Before he even consciously acknowledged the nagging suspicion that he knew what had happened, he began to run. He ran as fast as he could. Thrashing through the trees wildly, he was nearly out of breath when reached the village. Their huts were on fire and were burning out of control. The villagers themselves were strewn randomly and haphazardly across the ground; all were unconscious. He took a hesitant step forward toward the center of the village, and then suddenly stopped when a flying machine appeared overhead, about to set down.

_What is a Puddle Jumper doing here?_

A part of his mind, the part that was still Rodney McKay, had recognized the machine, but still another part of his mind had not recognized it. The sensation was strange and confusing, but when the door of the Jumper opened to reveal Ancients wearing what appeared to be some form of hazmat suits, he was suddenly frightened. When they spotted him, they aimed their weapons at him, and he instinctively knew that he had to get away.

They chased him, and he found them quite adept at the hunt. He dove into the undergrowth of the forest, hoping to hide himself among the ferns and rotting compost. Not even daring to breathe, he heard their footsteps approaching and closed his eyes.

His heart pounded in his ears as they drew closer and closer. When their hands grasped for him through the leaves, he fought them. Kicking and punching wildly, he did not make it easy for them to haul him up. Their scanning devices were lifted up and used on him, and then they began to speak in soft and hushed foreign words that a part of his mind might have recognized in another time.

A hush grew over the forest, and as he turned his head to his left, he felt the cries of the world within his soul, and he knew that a wave of red destruction was washing over the surface of the planet at that very moment. And he knew it would destroy him.

Panic nearly overcame him, but no matter how much he kicked and screamed, the Ancients would not let go of his limbs. He pleaded with them desperately, but they turned their heads ignorantly, tuning out his words. And when the wave of redness finally came within sight, he clenched his eyes shut against it.

He felt it pass over and through him, and at that moment, a part of him died and faded away, leaving only a lonely emptiness behind.

* * *

"Rodney…" a voice called out to him softly. He shirked away from it, unwilling to unclench his eyes, lest the voice belong to one of the Ancients who had hurt him. "Rodney, are you alright?" 

But the voice was familiar. Slowly, carefully, he uncurled himself from the ball his body had formed on the bed in which he was lying, and he uncovered his face from within his hands. When he looked around, he found that he was in the infirmary, safe and sound. Whose voice was that who had spoken to him?

"Rodney!" she shouted into his ear.

He cringed and rubbed at his aching eardrum, frowning irritably. "Yes, yes, I can hear you! Don't shout in my ear. You nearly deafened me!"

"Sorry," she apologized more softly this time, sounding almost sad. "I hope I didn't hurt you."

Rodney looked up into Laura Cadman's delicately pale and discolored face. She still looked awful, but no longer acted as if she was possessed by an alien entity. He tried to give her a wry smile.

"I think I'll live," he said glumly, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "What about you, how are you feeling?"

A lot of emotions passed through her delicate features at that moment, but she expertly hid them within the confines of her military-trained demeanor. "Better, I think. I'm not experiencing uncontrollable urges to hurt people any more, at least."

Rodney nodded understandingly, and then suddenly looked away uncomfortably.

She glared at him suspiciously, but then her expression turned to one of hurt. "I'm sorry, alright? If I could've stopped it from happening…"

"No, no, don't apologize," Rodney said, waving his hand as if to shrug a burden off of his shoulders. "You didn't do anything to me. At least, I don't think you did."

"Rodney, I know what it showed you," she stated, and then looked down at her hands shamefully.

He puzzled over that, somewhat unsure of what he could say that would make her feel better. "Cadman… I don't really know what it was that I just experienced, but I find it hard to believe that it had anything at all to do with what just happened to you."

"Well, it did. I saw a lot more than what little it showed you." A long moment passed in silence before she spoke again. "There are other time capsules out there, you know; at least two more."

"How comforting," Rodney replied sarcastically.

Another moment of silence filled the gap between them.

He felt inadequate, and wished that Carson had been here to console her instead. He knew that they'd been fairly close. That reminded him… "Laura, Where's Carson?"

She looked up, and her eyes went wide. Sighing heavily, a look of regret and pain appeared on her face. "Honestly, I'd completely forgotten about him."

"You didn't infect him with that alien organism, did you?" Rodney asked, cringing with disgust and fear at the thought.

"No," she replied, appearing as if she was trying to remember or, more likely, forget something. "He's in his quarters."

Rodney frowned with confusion. "Zelenka was on one of the search teams, and that's the first place I told him to look."

"Well, I guess he didn't check the closet," she said abashedly. Her cheeks turned red with embarrassment, but she showed no other outward sign of it.

Rodney's eyes widened with surprise. "The closet?"


	7. Rescues and Regrets

A/N: Hope you enjoy the UST I managed to work in here. The semester is over, just one more day of choir concerts next sunday, and after that I fully intend to thoroughly enjoy my holiday. Lots of time to write! Hee Hee! And I've even figured up a name for my next fic: "The Emerald Wanderer". I plan to make it tense and exciting and funny, and hopefully not as dark as most of my fics tend to turn out. Looking forward to: having an entire week off of work! Not looking forward to: shopping. Sigh.

* * *

Carson forced his fingers to twitch again, and even though he could barely feel them, at least he felt more confident that as long as he was able to make them twitch that there was no permanent nerve damage; at least, not yet. The circulation in his wrists had been cut off hours ago, and he was sure that his hands were already a colored a deep shade of violet. He had no real recollection of how much time had actually passed, but since he'd been left there, he had twisted and pulled at the rope binding his wrists and ankles behind him, to no avail. 

He had been gagged as well. He wracked his brain. Did Laura actually tell him that the city was going to be destroyed? Or had it been a dream? Was she really the one that had bound him and left him in his own closet, or had it been someone else that he had no memory of?

Twisting his arms futilely against the bindings once more, he accidentally yanked a little too hard, and ended up hitting his head against a corner in his closet. _Och… that's goin' tae leave a mark,_ he thought to himself, clenching his eyes shut against the spots that were forming in his vision. But it faded in a few moments, so at least he didn't have to worry about suffering from the effects of a concussion as well.

Unable to see his watch or even hear the ocean, Carson became more restless and anxious as time passed slowly. He was sure that hours had passed, and as much comfort as he had gleaned from knowing that the city had indeed not been destroyed, he began to wonder if anybody had even noticed that he was missing. Wasn't anybody looking for him? Could all this have been some kind of cruel joke or prank?

Carson shook his head, unwilling to accept that the predicament he found himself in could possibly be anybody's idea of a practical joke, even from someone like Rodney. The pain had built up in the joints of his shoulders until he began to feel like he had been set on fire. Icy tendrils of tension mixed with searing heat in his arms because of it. Not even Rodney would inflict that upon him as a joke.

He had nearly fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion, despite the pain, when the door to the closet suddenly swooshed open, flooding the tiny compartment with light that his eyes were not accustomed to. Without a word, hands grasped at his arms and pulled him onto his stomach. His bindings were then cut, and he was allowed to roll over onto his back. The sudden release of pressure caused even more pain in his joints for a moment, making him gasp with the exertion of movement, but it did slowly fade away. He panted heavily, unwilling to make himself move again so soon, but the person who had cut him free waited patiently.

Blinking against the brightness, Carson looked up into the face of his savior, attempting to identify the person as he gag was removed. He was surprised at how weak and shaky his voice sounded to his ears. "Rodney? Is that you?"

"Yeah," he replied softly, trying to feign indifference toward him, but a hint of concern did manage to filter into his voice. "It's me."

"Och!" Carson wailed painfully, gingerly stretching out the stiffness in his arms and rubbing his face with tingling hands. "Thank goodness! I was afraid nobody was comin' tae find me."

"Well, Colonel Sheppard and Teyla are both in the infirmary," Rodney explained as he cut the ropes binding Carson's ankles. "And Ronon's been in pretty a bad mood. I'm sure he was just concerned for them at the moment, so I took it upon myself to come get you."

"How did ye find me?" Carson asked tiredly, stretching out his legs stiffly. "What happened to Colonel Sheppard and Teyla?"

Rodney didn't respond at first. Carson was somewhat perplexed when his friend grimaced uncomfortably, and then a feminine figure approached Rodney from behind. He gasped with shock and fright when he recognized the woman's face, shrinking back into the closet as far as he could, despite the tingling that remained in his hands and feet as circulation returned to them.

"Rodney, behind you!" he shrieked with a cracking voice, wide-eyed and very frightened.

"Carson, stay calm," Rodney grabbed his flailing arms in an effort to steady him, but he did not immediately calm down. "Carson, it's alright! It's over! Believe it or not, she led me here to you."

Carson whimpered softly, leaning tiredly against the wall and rubbing circulation back into his purple hands. "She did this to me. Of that I'm sure now."

"I know," Rodney said softly. He was waiting patiently for Carson to collect himself. "She even shot Colonel Sheppard in the chest with your sidearm under the influence of that organism. I suppose we should feel lucky that neither of us ended up falling victim to it as well."

"No," Laura corrected him softly, not moving a muscle from where she stood. "He was never in any danger of that, and neither were you."

Rodney's brow furrowed with confusion, and he turned his head to look at her curiously. "How do you know that?"

She chose not to answer, and instead lowered herself down next to Rodney, looking directly at Carson. She spoke sadly, carefully, and sat very still. "Carson… I'm sorry. It's all over now, I promise."

His breathing slowed to a more normal pace, but Carson could not bring himself to respond.

"Are you sure? Because you still look horrible to me," Rodney said instead after it became apparent that Carson would not speak. "I still can't believe Dr. Biro let you out of the infirmary."

She glared at Rodney with annoyance. She was still self-conscious about the marks that had remained under her skin, but Dr. Biro had promised her that it would clear up as soon as what remained of the now-dead organism had been properly flushed from her system. What bothered her most at the moment, though, was how frightened Carson had reacted to the sight of her.

"Well, if you're feeling well enough, I can help you walk to the infirmary," Rodney said to Carson after a moment. "But if you can't walk, I don't think I can carry you. Should I call a medical team with a stretcher?"

"No," Carson whispered softly, shifting and stretching out the muscles in his feet to alleviate the tingling. "I think I can walk."

He intentionally avoided direct eye contact with Laura as Rodney slung a helping hand over his shoulder and helped him up to his feet.

* * *

"There's no trace of the organism in your blood," Dr. Biro said without looking away from the chart she held and deftly manipulated in her hands. "You seem to be experiencing no after-effects from your ordeal, at least. Maybe things can finally start to get back to normal around here." 

Carson had been staring blankly at the ceiling while she'd worked, and had been hesitant to look anywhere else. Colonel Sheppard was recovering from his gunshot wound in a bed off to his left, and Laura sat silently on the bed directly to his right. He had no desire to deal with his fear and conflicted feelings toward her right now, and had Dr. Biro allowed him to, he would've slunk back to his quarters and hidden himself there for at least a couple of days.

But Laura continued to sit silently next to him, her posture holding absolutely still and rigid, and seemed to be waiting for him to say something. Her face was emotionless, but Carson still knew her well. He could tell that a million thoughts were racing through her mind all at once. He had been the one hurt by her first, and he could not bring himself to speak to her.

Dr. Biro had nothing more to report, and hesitantly but gratefully stepped away to attend to Colonel Sheppard, who was nearly well enough to be discharged to light duty by now. Uncomfortable silence didn't suit her, but she would leave the two to it if it was their wish. After a few more minutes, Laura's hands fidgeted. She had apparently decided that she would be the one to speak first.

"So, you're feeling better, I hope?" she asked him tentatively, trying to force a smile, but had not yet moved.

"Aye," he whispered simply in response and nodded slightly, but he did not move either.

A long, uncomfortable moment of silence followed before Laura managed to find a few words that she sought. "Carson… I'm sorry."

"Why are ye sorry?" he stated flatly and impassively. His gaze still had not shifted from the same spot on the ceiling. "What happened to me was'nae your fault."

She would not utter agreement, and her voice was close to cracking with the tension, betraying her guilt. "I remember very clearly everything that I was forced to do to you, and just because it was against my will doesn't mean that I don't feel bad about it."

Carson frowned. He hadn't intended to make her feel worse, but was feeling too hurt to apologize.

And now Laura was close to tears. Her lips trembled, and her eyes blinked rapidly. "It was my fault, Carson."

Shaking his head slightly with disbelief, he pulled himself together, finally forcing himself to sit up and then look away from the ceiling into her dark, guilt-ridden eyes. "How is it your fault? I know that you'd nay ever do somethin' like that ta me of your own free will, an' I don't blame ye for any of it."

She gazed deeply into the kindly blue depths of his eyes, nearly losing herself in them before she spoke. "It only forced me to do that to you because I still…"

His features hardened as her words trailed off into silence. His gaze lowered slowly to his hands, but he did not turn away from her. After a moment, he mustered his courage and took a deep breath, and then surrounded her with his arms. Laura gratefully and fondly settled herself against his chest as he held her in a tender embrace.

Pushing aside a stray lock of hair from her forehead and settling his other hand against her cheek, he placed a gentle kiss on her brow. He spoke reassuringly and softly, but did not smile. "It's alright, Lass. I forgive ye."

Laura breathed a deep sigh of relief, and although she found that she was at the moment unable to utter a word, she managed to offer him a meek smile. When he then released her, she felt as if she would have done nearly anything to feel his gentle caress once more, but a smile would have warmed her just as well. It was a smile that did not come, though.

Instead, he fumbled for his white lab coat that hung near the door leading into his office, and slipped it on. He would not meet her eyes again as he picked up a pile of charts that had been left on his desk in a neat pile. "A lot of work has been buildin' up durin' my absence. So if there's nothin' else, Lass, I really should be gettin' back to it."

He turned away, unwilling to witness the hurt etched on her face before she slowly turned and left him to sift through the mountains of paperwork. When he was finally alone again, he sat down heavily in his chair and rubbed at his face. He felt bad about hurting her feelings, but she had hurt him more than he'd cared to admit. He knew and understood that it hadn't been her fault, that she had been used thoughtlessly by that horrible creature that had possessed her.

But now, every time he would see the lines that were traced across her face, he would also see the creature looming just under the surface, ready to possess him and take all conscious control of his body away from him once more. Carson trembled uncontrollably.

The fine lines marking her face and hands would fade, but the fear of it would haunt him for a long time. Perhaps one day he'd be able to look past only the invisible lines that would remain and be able to see her beauty as he had seen it before, but that day would not be today.

Carson shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind, then picked up his stylus and went to work.

THE END...?

* * *

_If you guys are interested, I might be convinced to write a sequel or an epilogue... Maybe include a somewhat happier ending? --waits for comments--_


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